


One Two Three

by Healix



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, EWE, F/M, I know the plot I just have to write it now, Muggles, Slow Burn, plot before pairing, science is dangerous, we'll see how this goes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-30
Updated: 2018-02-20
Packaged: 2019-03-11 08:17:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13520259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Healix/pseuds/Healix
Summary: The final battle didn't happen, and the war never ended. 8 years later, in 2006, it's still not over. They're going through the motions, at that point. They're tired. Too tired to notice a greater evil rising, coming from an unexpected source. Hermione Granger is abducted for two months and comes back with information that will change the lives of every magical being in the world. The war can wait when magic itself is threatened.





	1. The Playground

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not Rowling, I don't own this, I'm just experimenting with her work.
> 
> \--
> 
> Sooo this is my first fic, but trust me I have read a ton of them before haha. It's a plot I had in mind for a while and since nobody is writing it, I will. Don't expect regular updates at first because nothing is written yet - I know, that's lame, but I really wanted to post this first chapter before I got scared and decided to wait. Now I have to keep going ! I have a rough estimation for the rest of the fic including major moments, but for now it's just this one chapter. I've never really written anything before so please, please comment and tell me what I can improve ! It may motivate me to write the following chapters ;)  
> Also, I'm French, English is my second language, so feel free to tell me of any mistakes I may make, either my autocorrect deciding to switch to french or my brain deciding to mess up, I'll correct them. I hope you'll like it !
> 
> Also, I want to dedicate this to Lady Miya, since she's the author of my favorite fic - Shared Flame, go read it !
> 
> A quick summary, since this is an AU :
> 
> At the end of 6th year, Snape doesn't kill Dumbledore - the Headmaster is still cursed, weakened and deteriorating, but still alive, and Snape goes back to teaching Potions after that year on the orders of his masters. Year seven is spent in school, NEWTS are passed, and there's no final battle. And the years go on and on, and now it's 2006, 8 years after the canon war. The trio is 27/26 years old, they're Order members, and fighting in the war.
> 
> All of this will be told in the future chapters, but I figured it'd help set this story in time.
> 
> I really hope you like this first chapter ! I'll write the next parts when I have time, the sooner I can the better. And sorry for the long AN, the next ones will be shorter.

The playground is dark when a loud pop echoes.

She crashes into the muggle swing and promptly retches bile, her stomach too empty to produce anything else. She is heaving loudly, sweating and shivering, the late August night both too cold and too hot for her fragile state. She is on her knees, scarred hands in the dirt, for a few minutes that feel like hours. She eventually pushes herself up and onto her feet, breathing deeply through her nose until she feels calmer. She can not fail now. Not after all she’s endured, not after she escaped, not with the knowledge she has to share. Not when so much is at stake. She would laugh if her ribs didn’t hurt so bad. They’re at war against each other, and right now it feels so small. So insignificant. So… stupid. Somewhere along the line, they lost track of their goals, of their ideals. On both sides, really. They go through the motions. But now she knows, she knows that there is something more important, more dangerous, coming their way. She can not die here, she can not die without telling them, without fighting just a bit more. She takes a painful breath.

Then, for the first time in eight years, she breaks the taboo.

\- "Voldemort"

She waits. One, two, three minutes until a loud pop rings next to her. She almost thought it wouldn’t work. After that many years, that many deaths, people had grown more careful and the name was never uttered anymore, not by her side at least. They had wondered if the curse had been lifted, but nobody had been willing to try it, of course. Thankfully, since she’s not alone anymore. The curse stands. It worked. She doesn’t recognize the man in front of her - he’s young, younger than her, light hair and brown eyes, a scar marring the left side of his face. A new recruit, courtesy of Greyback, she guesses.

\- "Wait ! Don’t come near me. Summon your master, it’s important." she says between deep breaths, but she already knows he won’t listen. His eyes gleam in the night and his snarl is more ferocious than ever. The full moon is in four days, after all. He looks her up and down, eyeing her tattered muggle dress.

\- "A mudblood, I assume ? It seems like someone already had the pleasure to play with you. Such a pity… But don’t worry, I’ll make the pain stop, eventually. I’ll get rid of you, dear, but before, I’ll make you scream." 

And before she can stop him, before she can take a step back, he’s on her, and then he’s on the ground writhing in pain, and then he’s immobile. Dead. She sighs. She’ll have to be more careful with the next one.

\- "Voldemort."

A minutes passes. On a whim, she tries anew.

\- "Voldemort. Voldemort."

She tries to stifle a laugh but her ribs crack, and she’s bent in half again. She’s trying not to think about Beetlejuice, when the third loud pop of that night echoes around her. This time she recognizes the silhouette, the long blond hair is a dead give away. The absence of a cane and the smaller stature helps her narrow down her guess. Draco Malfoy eyes her carefully, noting the body on the floor. At least he’s cautious. His wand is drawn of course, but he stays where he is. He recognizes her too.

\- "Granger ? Why would you call the Dark Lord’s name ?"

\- "Call your master, please. Don’t come close, or you’ll end up like your... colleague." She says. "Please", she adds again, after a thought. Malfoy and her never saw eye to eye, but she doesn’t want him dead. She never wanted anyone dead, really. Other than Bellatrix Lestrange, that is. She is rotting in hell and she’ll celebrate her passing every year until her own death. But Malfoy is her age, and she doesn’t think she can afford to lose more time.

\- "Granger, what do you think you’re doing ?" 

\- "Call him. Now. Please, Draco." 

He eyes her again, but the use of his given name seems to do the trick. It’s serious. Closing his eyes, he rolls his robe and promptly lifts his wand to his left forearm and presses it to the dark mark marring his skin. She breathes in relief.

One.

Two.

Three seconds pass before another pop, almost imperceptible, echoes through the air again. She almost misses it, bent in half grabbing at her ribs trying not to retch again while another tremor passes, when she ears his voice ordering Draco Malfoy away. She staggers to her feet to meet his eyes, unable to keep the hurt to herself. She’s in pain and he’ll know it wether she likes it or not.

\- "Miss… Granger ? Mudblood friend of Harry Potter ?" His high, cold voice echoes through the night. He steps forward and she steps back, he can’t come too close without being prepared, she won’t allow it. She raises her head, looking straight into his slit, red eyes, and his wand arm drops, hairless eyebrows rising high.

She sighs at last, knowing he noticed the purple aura swirling around her. It’s a sight, really. She’d be amazed herself if it wasn’t causing her so much pain. She falls to the ground, still looking at him, gathering the energy she has left to tell him. She’s not stupid, she knows he’s intrigued, but she’ll have to explain at least the basics if she wants him to help her. The purple cloud is slipping away from her, dancing like flames, trying to get to him. His eyes are wide when he finally opens his mouth.

\- "What the fuck happened to you ?"


	2. Ocean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I don't own anything but the plot.
> 
> -
> 
> _The purple cloud is slipping away from her, dancing like flames, trying to get to him. His eyes are wide when he finally opens his mouth._
> 
> _\- "What the fuck happened to you ?"_

She curses silently when she feels laughter bubbling in her chest and tearing through her cracked ribs. Oh, she’s determined to survive now, if only so she can tell Harry how Voldemort looks when he’s shocked. Red eyes bulging, lipless mouth agape, and skin even paler than usual - he’s a sight she’ll never forget. And she even managed to make him curse out loud. Maybe she’s not that far gone if she can still find amusement in the small details of her situation.

She coughs softly and his eyes snap back to hers.

\- "I… I assume you understand what is happening to me ? " She asks softly.

\- "Your magic. It’s escaping… Oozing out of you. I read about it, but…" He answers, frowning slightly. "How ? Who…"

\- "It’s a long story and I’m afraid time is a luxury I can’t afford right now." She raises a hand when she sees his mouth open again. "What you need to know is that this is serious - only the tip of the iceberg, and I believe you’re the only one who can help me." He’s preparing himself to speak again and she knows he’s going to ask why she thinks he’d want to help an enemy, so she interrupts him once more. "The… people… who did this to me, they intend to do it to every witch and wizard they can find, and they have means to find them. Us. Nothing can stop them for now. If you let me die, nobody will know, and nobody will be safe." She sees the wheels turning in his head, the slight smirk and the light in his eyes. He thinks he can use _them_ to help advance his cause. She sighs. How predictable. How foolish. "It will also happen to you. You don’t know anything about them, yet they know you. You’re a particularly high target on their list, from what I’ve seen. If they haven’t done so already, they will start searching for you soon. And when - not if, _when_ \- they find you, they’ll attack and you won’t have noticed a thing. You can not begin to imagine how they work. But you’ll figure it out when it’s already too late. You will feel your magic escaping your body, slowly and painfully, until the last tendril is out. And you know what that means, don’t you ?" She can’t help but feel a bit smug when she looks straight into his eyes, she knows she has him now. It’s confirmed when she sees him shiver for the first time, his gaze darkening.

\- "You... lose your magic. Forever. And then you slowly, slowly waste away, missing the most important piece of yourself. What holds you together. You die a shell of the wizard you once were… weak and pathetic." He whispers only loudly enough for her to hear. He’s right of course. A slow, painful death with no cure.

She holds his gaze for a few seconds until another tremor shakes her and she almost falls to the ground. She can see the violet flames dancing around her and she knows she only has a few minutes left. She pleads him with her eyes, and he raises his wand again, bracing himself.

\- "What do I have to do ?"

\- "I… theoretically, you need to use your magic - raw magic, not a spell - to push mine inside of my body. I can feel your aura from here, you’re probably the only one powerful enough to succeed, especially since there’s so little time left." He looks pleased by her admission. He shouldn’t. She knows it’ll be painful for him too.

\- "Theoretically ?" He smirks.

She rolls her eyes and takes a deep breath, interrupted by a painful cough. She sees him steel himself and take a step toward her. His magic is already pooling around him, white-blue tendrils of smoke surrounding his body. He looks like a god right there, eyes red and skin white, an otherworldly appearance in a cloud of pulsing ice.

She closes her eyes when another tremor hits, but she feels him close, his magic already stroking hers, surrounding it. She bites her lip so hard she tastes blood when he makes the first push. It feels like all of her bones are breaking, she gasps for air and then the second push forces her to her knees. Voldemort is bent over her, sweat falling from his brow and a furious snarl on his face. At least he seems determined to succeed, it’s a small comfort through the pain. The third push hurts less and she can finally breathe. She suddenly feels better, the emptiness inside of her fading slowly. She opens her eyes and finds herself looking straight into his. He doesn’t see her, a faraway look in his eyes, but the furrow of his brow attests of his concentration. The violet halo surrounding her is almost gone now, replaced by his bright ice blue swirls. Another push and she smiles brightly through the tears running down her cheeks, engulfed in the ocean of his magic, the last tendrils of purple smoke retracting back under her skin. She feels whole again, at last. She never wants to experience the emptiness ever again. A shell of a witch, as he said before.  
When the last violet swirl disappears they both take a deep breath. One, two, three seconds pass and he starts retreating but her arms shoot up and grab his shoulders, clutching him to her.

\- "Wait ! I can feel it… oozing back... your magic is acting like a wall, keeping it inside for now, but if you leave now it will start leaking again and… Please, please push one more time until it locks into place... I can feel it, it’s so close…" She’s pleading, she knows, and she doesn’t like it much but the fear is taking over. Shivers racking her body, still clutching at his shoulders, she’s certain she’ll die if he doesn’t finish what they started. He looks exhausted but nods slightly. Closing his eyes and bending his head, their foreheads touching, he forces his magic past her skin and guides her own back inside where it belongs. It feels like two beasts are fighting deep under her ribs, clawing at each other, tendrils of magic pushing and pulling, one trying to escape and the other forcing it still. It’s also strangely intimate, having is magic so close to hers. She can sense him, in a way. Something foreign inside of her, something that doesn’t belong here but has found a place anyway. She wonders if he can feel it too.

The last of the tremors shake her deeply and they both feel a shift in the air, as if something had clicked into place. She’s still clutching his shoulders, afraid to let go and feel it escape again. They wait. It feels like hours have passed when finally, slowly, he recalls his magic. It’s painful, but not. Something crawling and scratching under her skin, but also soothing the aches and healing her ribs. It’s rough and soft, heavy and light, familiar and foreign. Confusing, if nothing else. She feels a small sense of loss when it has completely left her, but her own magic is locked in place again, coursing familiarly through her veins. She breathes deeply, exhausted but safe and whole again.

They’re both still panting when a faraway clock rings 5 times and she snaps out of the trance like state she was in, and she notices she’s still holding Voldemort’s shoulders, their forehead still touching slightly. His left hand has found it’s way on her right arm, clutching it tightly while his right hand is gripping she side of her dress under her no longer aching ribs. He’s sweating and breathing deeply, looking as exhausted as she is, and neither seem to be able to form words right now so she stares into his red eyes, trying to communicate the relief, gratitude and happiness she’s feeling. He nods slowly and she starts to remove her hands from his body but he clutches her harder, bruising, before collapsing against her shoulder.

⁃ "Do. Not. Move. I need... a minute… or two." He rasps against her neck, and so she sits still, waiting for him to stop shivering.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And chapter two is here ! Hope you like it. I'm still trying to find a way to write what I want to tell, and dialogues are particularly hard for me. It feels so unnatural, I don't know if it's just because I'm reading what I write or if it's really just weird. Anyway, I do try to work on this story regularly but work and life are a bit intense right now. I'll try to update once a week, but I don't think I can chose a regular day yet. Review if you feel like to, but know that it means a lot to me !


	3. Coffee and death threats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I don't own anything but the plot.
> 
>  
> 
> _⁃ "Do. Not. Move. I need... a minute… or two." He rasps against her neck, and so she sits still, waiting for him to stop shivering._

The first rays of sun peak around the clouds when they next emerge from their magic induced lethargy. They must have fallen asleep at one point since they’re now both lying on the playground’s soft floor, limbs tangled in an awkward and uncomfortable way. She gently extracts herself from his relaxed grip and yawns. Voldemort is still fast asleep next to her and she can feel the shift in their priorities, because there is no way the paranoid dark lord would allow himself to be so defenseless around anyone, exhausted or not.

She kneels besides him and slowly raises her hand to his shoulder, attempting to lightly shake him awake. He’s unresponsive so she tries a bit harder, aware of the dangerous situation. He won’t like the fact that he let himself be so vulnerable, and if she isn’t careful there is a very real possibility he’ll jerk awake, wand in hand, and she’ll be cursed into oblivion before his eyes are even open. And there is no way she can secure his wand first, he’s gripping it tightly agains his chest, half lying on top of it. She takes a deep breath and pokes him again, this time calling his name softly. He finally moves and and opens his eyes blearily, looking confused at first, then surprised and angry, his wand hand twitching as he glares at her. And then, finally, recognition sets in and he remembers the last few hours.

\- " It’s dawn, we need to leave before muggles spot us. How are you feeling ? " she asks quietly, eyes trained on his wand. His grip on the weapon loosens at her words and she finds herself able to breathe a bit easier.

\- " I’ll live. I believe we have much to... discuss. " His voice doesn’t tremble but she can still see the tiredness in his eyes, probably mirroring hers.

\- " Of course. Not here though. Coffee ? " She looks around and almost jumps in surprise, the playground is familiar. It’s the one her parents used to take her to after school, a three minute walk from their now empty house.

\-  " Coffee would be adequate, but I’ll need a... disguise of sorts if we want to be left alone. "

He’s right of course, the red eyes and white skin are... uncommon, to say the least. That, and the fact that he has slits instead of a nose. She waves her wand and transfigures a rock into a vest with a deep hood, muggle enough for a quick stop at the dingy café around the corner, but still suitable for a snake faced dark lord. Hopefully. He eyes the garment with disgust but can’t offer anything better, they are both still spent and their magic is over taxed by their previous efforts, a simple hood is all they can manage right now.  
Hermione stands up, wobbling, and offers him a hand. He must be more tired than he lets on because he takes it without hesitation and lets her pull him to his feet. He draws the long hood over his face and follows her out of the playground and around a few corners to a ratty café with yellow-ish paint flaking from the walls and creaking floorboards, but cheap palatable coffee none the less.

They order four cups of plain black coffee and a box of hard biscuits, and they’re on their way to Hermione’s childhood home. The walk is short and the small suburban house is soon in view. The spare key is still hidden under the second largest flower pot - the flowers have all been dead for a while but they guard the door anyway, she opens the door and they shuffle inside. It’s dusty and the air is stale, she hasn’t been back since she packed her parents to Australia. Too many memories. That night she had packed the house to a storage unit a few miles away, so the rooms are totally empty.  
They settle in what used to be the living room, transfiguring splinters of wood into shapeless pillows. They’re not much to look at but it’s more comfortable than sitting on the hard wood floor.  
They take a moment to enjoy the warm rays of sun filtering through the window, sipping at their first coffee, both watching the bottom of their cups intently.

She lets out a soft laugh and his attention is brought back to her.

\- " Sorry, it’s just... this is a bit surreal. The dark lord Voldemort civilly having coffee and biscuits with Hermione Granger, muggleborn member of the Order, in an empty muggle house... " The corner of his mouth lifts a few millimeters and she can see a hint of a smile in his tired eyes. She returns the almost-smile and takes a breath.

\- " I guess I’ll get to it then, it’s a long story, I better start from the beginning. A year before your men attacked Hogwarts in 1997, I sent my parents away to Australia, wiping their memories of me and giving them new identities. I feared they would be targets. We’re in their old house right now. They have stayed hidden for 8 years, and with no progress to the war I decided I should track them down. They’d still stay in Australia, hidden, but they’d be aware of my existence and I’d be able to be in touch with them. I’d find them, and then a way to recover their memories. I missed them a lot, you see. I had planned to fly to Sydney on July first, spend a few days tracking them down, recover their memories and then spend the summer there to rebuild our relationship. My friends knew but I told them not to contact me. While I was fairly certain that they wouldn’t be at risk in Australia, I still wanted to make sure your men didn’t find out their location if they managed to intercept letters sent to me. I had planned to spend the whole 2 months of summer essentially gone from the face of the Earth. In retrospect it was a terrible idea, since I never made it to Australia and nobody noticed. "

She takes a deep breath and cautiously lifts her eyes from the bottom of her cup up to his eyes. He’s listening with a blank face, not a flicker of emotion escaping his tightly controlled expression. He gestures for her to go on.

\- " This is probably going to be a bit... complicated to explain if you don’t know much about muggles, but I’ll try. I was shot with a tranquilizer dart of some kind - it injects a sedative from a distance - in a street near Heathrow airport. I don’t remember much, I just know that I woke up a few days after, locked in a sterile room with a simple bed, a table and a chair, and a small bathroom. Padded walls, furniture attached to the floor, no mirrors, no windows, and a locked door. I had a nightshirt similar to the one I’m wearing now, the rest of my luggage was kept elsewhere or disposed of. No wand either of course. I tried to unlock the door with wandless magic, I’m not that good at it but it’s something I’m used to doing on my own flat door, it should have worked. When it didn’t, I assumed I had been taken by your people, that they had cast anti magic wards or something similar.

I was left alone at first, receiving a meager meal once in a while, but never enough to feel well. After a dozen days I assume I was weak enough for their taste, and they finally got me out of the room. My memory is a bit hazy in places, between the hunger, the thirst, and the tiredness, I’m afraid I may have blacked out a few times. I still don’t know what exactly they did to me. They ran tests and diagnostics, both physical and mental, they cut me open and sew me back closed, took my blood regularly and probably ran a battery of analysis on it. I experienced every muggle medical tests you can think of, echocardiographies, blood count, magnetic resonance imaging, computer axial tomographies, electrocardiograms… In between sessions they’d bring me back to my padded room to rest. They gave me more drugs that I know the name of, they hurt me, healed me, made me hurt again... Weeks three, four, and five are a blur. I remember trying to use magic to escape or fight, but it often felt impossible, similar to anti magic wards, but different in a way. In some rooms I could manage some spells but it never hurt them. Some other times it felt like they forced me to use my magic, as if they were able to coax it out of my body... The last few weeks of my stay there, they performed their tests again. They were even more thorough than before and I spent hours on their examination tables, which is when I was able to learn more about where I was and who they were. I was confused and they spoke a mix of English, French and German, but I heard them refer to their organization as "Ouroboros Laboratories". They talked about magic, and they theorized and tested their ideas on me. They study magic, they try to understand where it comes from and how it works genetically. They’re surprisingly aware of our society, I heard your name mentioned more than once, I’d say they’d love to have you as a lab rat. They know about the war and about the main events. They’ve been studying us for a while I think, but only recently started abducting wizards and witches for their experiments. "

She takes a deep breath, she has to keep telling the story, if she stops she won’t be able to pick it up again. " I... they had children in here, too. Toddlers, babies, pre-teens. All muggleborn I assume, kidnapped from all around the world. They experimented on them too but their lack of control hindered their operations, which is why they decided to abduct an older witch, and I had the misfortune to be at the wrong place at the wrong time, I guess. They monitor us when we step out of the wizarding world, and I was the first and closest target they could find. Anyway... A week and a half ago one of their experiments failed, something exploded and I was hurt in the process. They were trying to access my magic from inside of me, to make me use it again, but it reacted badly to the intrusion and their machines exploded. I woke up back in my room, covered in bandages, with a weird sensation deep below my ribs, like a bruising fire slowly growing. I spent the next few days alone until one of them came to change my bandages, but by that time something was clearly wrong with me and he noticed. So they tested me again and again, more carefully this time. They got excited by their discoveries, I think I figured it out at the same time. They somehow managed to unsettle my magic, they damaged the anchor it has in my body, and as a result I couldn’t control it much anymore, it was slowly seething out. They accelerated the process with all their tests until my magic was almost lose, maybe to harness it, or maybe simply to see what it would do to me. This is when they realized they couldn’t touch me anymore. It attacked anything that came close, machines or humans, and their fancy anti magic weapons and scientific wards were useless. They even tried giving me my wand, probably hoping it would calm the storm, but it was pointless. I think I killed two or three of them when I escaped, they were too close. The pain was blinding and I thought I was going to die, so I focused all of my energy on apparating and let my magic take me away anywhere else but there. I entertained the theory that powerful magic could maybe interact with mine and protect it’s owner, and maybe force mine back where it belonged, and with Dumbledore sick and weaker everyday I didn’t have much options left. Plus, calling for you is quite easy, what with the taboo and all. " she finished with a smirk before sobering up. " Thank you for helping me, by the way, I mean it. This is bigger than our war and you were my only chance, and I am glad I made this choice. "

She‘s a little out of breath after her long speech, anxious about what he is going to say. It’s a lot to take in but his silence is weighting on her, especially after the quick thanks she just uttered. She really ought to thank him properly someday. She fidgets with her hands and bites her lip, regretting instantly as she reopens the small wound she gave herself earlier. She is almost startled when he finally speaks.

\- " I had heard about a series of children disappearing from neighboring countries, a few years ago. One kid was a distant relative of one of my men, his parents were squibs but he was magical. He never found out what happened to the boy. I assume he was abducted by this... Ouroboros. " He closes his eyes, searching what to say next. " You are right, I’m pained to say, this is more important than anything else. It would be foolish to assume they didn’t notice what happened to you, and while we don’t know their intentions, they won’t pass up the opportunity to create a way to replicate their failed experiment. They’d have a weapon capable of extracting magic from someone... " He shivers, his eyes dark. " We can’t leave this alone, we don’t know how many they are, how advanced are their technologies... I’m prepared to work with you, with your side, to stop them. My men will obey my commands. Will your Order listen and agree to a... temporary truce ? "

\- " I wish I could say yes, but I don’t know. With Dumbledore’s health declining, our different teams are growing restless. Harry leads us with Dumbledore, and I don’t know if he’ll agree to a alliance. I would have to talk to Dumbledore first, get him on my side, then I may have a shot at convincing the others. "

\- " We should go then. I’ll gather my men and select a few to accompany me when we meet again. You go to Dumbledore and talk to the Order, then contact me when you’re ready. We could meet here again, it’s relatively neutral ground. " He observes her a few seconds the adds " I’ll need a wand oath first of course, and you’ll have to make your group take one too, as I’ll do with my men. This is too important and I don’t trust your… friends to not use the situation as an opportunity for an ambush. "

She notices he didn’t group her with the ones he doesn’t trust, and she’s relieved. They already have an unspoken agreement, having lived through the worst - yet - together, having seen with their own eyes the gravity of the situation. This fragile understanding brings her courage. After two months of loneliness she finally has someone with her, on her side.

\- " Of course. I’ll come back here with a few trusted Order members, and I’ll call the taboo again. It will probably take me a few days, but no more than a week. "

They stand up and perform a quick vow, swearing a truce between them while they work together against the muggle threat. They agree to make the members of their respective groups take a vow too, rendering them unable to plot against or harm the other side while the truce is active. When the purple and ice blue tendrils of magic encircling their clasped hands disappear, they both let their arms fall and draw out a long breath, sensing the magic take hold. She feels particles of his magic coursing through her, small sparks confirming the vow that binds them together. It’s not her first temporary vow but she has never noticed it before. She never felt someone else’s magic inside of her either, not like Voldemort’s when he helped her a few hours before, so she guesses it’s the reason why this time she can feel it.

Their goodbyes are slightly awkward, Hermione finally extending her hand back for him to shake, thanking him again for what he’s done with a small clenching of her fingers. He returns the press and lets go, disapparating promptly. She vanished too, the empty house she leaves behind echoing the loud pop of her departure. She has a lot to do, but first, she needs to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter three ! Sorry for the long wait, I hope it reveals enough about the story for you to pardon the delay. Work is insane right now and I don't have much opportunities to edit what I have already written, so this chapter may be a bit rushed, or at least it feels that way to me. It's probably because I'm still uncomfortable with dialogue, which is 90% of this chapter. Anyway, hope you like it !


End file.
